CLAIMED BY MY ALPHA STEPBROTHER

CHAPTER 2

ELENA ROSSETTI

I wake up suddenly, a jolt, and darkness surrounds me like a heavy cloak.

I try to move, but my body is rooted, immobilized in bed.

The surrounding room is bathed in the soft glow of a bedside lamp, and shadows stretch across the walls as if they are watching me.

The scent of aged wood and a strong perfume fills the air, but it’s the sensation of being watched that makes me tremble.

When my eyes adjust to the light, I see him.

He is standing by the window, his eyes fixed on me.

There is no warmth or compassion in them, only coldness.

The tension in the air is dense and palpable, as if he is waiting for something from me.

The sound of my racing heart echoes in the silence, deafening.

I try to move, but my body does not respond.

I feel as if I am trapped, and fear begins to grow inside me.

I struggle not to show it, not to give in to panic.

I can't.

I can't let him see how terrified I am.

I try to challenge his gaze, to keep my eyes locked on his, but it only makes my skin tingle, as if I am staring into a deep, endless abyss.

Something inside me recoils.

“You're awake.”

His voice cuts through the silence like a sharp blade, deep and grave.

Every word is like a command.

I try to get up, but my legs fail me.

The fear is still there, but I force my mind to stay calm, not to show the dread that is consuming me.

My body trembles, but I try to ignore it.

I challenge his gaze.

I challenge the control he has over me.

“Who are you?”

My voice comes out weaker than I would like, but I try to hold on to the courage I have left.

I can't be submissive.

I can't.

Not when he is in front of me with that cold, merciless stare.

He starts moving, his heavy, steady footsteps echoing in the silent room.

Every sound seems amplified.

He walks toward the bed, and I feel a pressure in the air, as if he is a predator, and I am his prey.

I stop breathing, trying to control the anxiety that almost consumes me.

He stops beside the bed, his eyes still fixed on me.

No movement, no expression.

Just a calmness that unsettles me.

“Darian Moretti.”

He says it without hurry.

The name sounds like a sentence.

He is someone, for sure.

Someone powerful and dangerous, and it chills me to the core.

I don’t know that name, but the way he presents himself tells me I shouldn’t challenge him.

He is someone whose mere name is enough to make me realize I am dealing with something far greater than I could ever comprehend.

I swallow hard, my body in total tension, as if relaxing is impossible.

I try to keep control of the situation, but he doesn't make it easy.

He is an imposing man, and his name echoes in my mind with brutal force.

He moves closer, observing my every move, as if he is analyzing me, studying me.

He is in control, I know that, and the feeling of being a puppet is almost unbearable.

My mind screams for answers, but my words come out hesitant.

“Why am I here?”

The question escapes, stronger than I expected, but still tinged with desperation.

I try to stay firm, but the panic is becoming more present.

Darian remains silent, and that makes me even more uncomfortable.

He is in no hurry to answer.

Every second stretches, as if he has all the time in the world.

And he does.

He knows that, in some way, I have to submit to him, even without understanding why.

He has control.

And it consumes me.

“You can’t just kidnap me like this! I want to leave!”

I shout, looking at him with anger.

He remains calm, looking at me, then rolls his eyes.

“You still don’t understand? You are mine now. You should be thanking me for saving you from that damned marriage you were in…”

“You didn’t save me! You condemned me!”

I get up from the bed, running to the locked door, and before I can try again, he is behind me.

Too close.

“If you try to run again… there will be serious consequences, baby.”

His voice is cold and full of threat.

He enjoys the idea of seeing me challenge him and watching panic grow inside me.

I know he can sense the terror I feel.

He feels every rapid beat of my heart, and he feeds on it.

I shake my head, trying to push the fear away.

I can't let myself be defeated.

Not now.

Not with him watching my every move.

“I won’t stay here. I will leave… no matter what you do.”

My voice comes out stronger than I expected, and for a moment, I actually believe my words.

I will leave.

I need to leave.

No matter what he tries to do.

He may be big and strong, but I won’t be submissive.

He takes a step toward me, and I feel my breath catch in my throat.

The distance between us shrinks, and the tension in the air becomes even more unbearable.

He is right there, inches from me, and I feel as if I am suffocating under his presence.

But I can't give in.

I can't.

“You think you can escape me, Elena?”

His voice is laced with an enigmatic calm that unsettles me.

“I chose you. And that… comes at a price.”

He steps away again, walking to the window.

The curtains sway gently with the wind, and he stands there, watching the view as if he is indestructible.

As if he is above everything.

I am just a piece in his game, a piece he chose.

And that makes me feel even smaller.

I remain silent, trying to process his words.

What does it mean to be "chosen" by him?

What does he want from me?

I don’t know, and it consumes me and destroys me from within.

I don't understand anything that is happening, but I know something is about to happen, and I can’t stop it.

“Why me?”

The question slips out before I can think.

I know he won’t answer, that he will leave me in ignorance, that he will make me keep fighting, searching for an answer where there is none.

He turns, but he doesn’t look at me.

His voice reaches me, cold as the night.

“Because you have no choice.”

I feel the tears wetting my face, and I glare at him with even more anger as I watch him walk toward the door.

“Where are you going? You can’t leave me locked in here!”

I scream.

“Dinner will be served in two hours. Be ready, or you will suffer the consequences.”

Before I can say anything, he leaves, locking the door and leaving me alone in the room.

The soft light of the room still lingers, casting long shadows that dance on the walls.

The feeling of being watched never disappeared, and now, with Darian's implicit threat still hanging in the air, fear becomes constant.

Dinner is set for later, and he has ordered me to prepare.

I don’t know what to expect, but one thing is clear: the man who kidnapped me enjoys keeping suspense in the air, as if he has absolute control over every aspect of my life now.

I walk across the room, my legs a little unsteady, but I force myself not to show weakness.

What does he want from me? Why me? These thoughts hammer in my mind, and I can't stop wondering what happened for me to end up in this nightmare.

I enter the bathroom and realize that the minutes are slipping away.

The reflection in the mirror no longer shows the determined young woman I used to be.

Now, I see someone consumed by fear—not just by the situation itself, but by the overwhelming sense of helplessness.

I know that nothing I do or say can change what is happening. If he wants, I won’t even have the freedom to choose what to wear, let alone what to do.

The dress he left for me on the bed is a deep shade of red, as intense as the feeling of danger looming over me.

I put it on, feeling Darian's eyes on every move I make, even though he is not here at this moment.

The fabric molds to my body in a way that leaves no doubt about the power and control he has over me. No matter what happens, I cannot escape.

After finishing getting ready, I take a deep breath and open the bedroom door, which is not locked this time.

I sigh, stepping out and walking down the stairs.

He is already waiting for me in the dining room.

Darian is sitting at the table, his gaze fixed on me, as if evaluating me like a piece on a chessboard.

He does not smile, does not say anything. He just watches me with an impassive expression.

I feel an unusual tension in the air.

The atmosphere seems heavier than before, and I have the feeling that every step I take is being meticulously calculated by him.

When I approach the table, he gestures with his hand, indicating that I should sit.

Dinner is served, but there is no casual conversation.

No attempt to ease the atmosphere with kind words.

Only the soft sound of cutlery and Darian's fixed stare, which does not seem to care about anything other than his own intentions.

He starts eating slowly, as if savoring each bite, but his attention is centered on me.

I feel an indescribable pressure as I try to focus on the food in front of me.

My stomach is tight, and each bite feels too heavy to swallow.

"You are important to a greater plan.", he says, his voice low and controlled, as if stating a simple fact.

His expression does not change, but his words send a shiver through my body.

He speaks as if describing something inevitable, as if it were a fact I should simply accept.

I look at him with distrust, trying to find some clue in his voice.

"A greater plan? What are you talking about?", I repeat, more to myself than to him.

Darian does not rush to answer. He continues eating, his eyes fixed on me, as if studying my reaction.

Frustration grows inside me.

Why doesn’t he give clear answers? Why does everything he says sound like an endless riddle?

"You don’t need to know everything right now.", he finally says, without looking at me, as if his words were a concession.

"What you need to understand is that your life is now tied to mine in a way you do not yet comprehend."

The shock of his words hits me hard.

"Tied to you?", I feel the weight of those words, but I do not fully understand what he means by them.

"I am nothing to you. I didn’t choose this. You have no right to involve me in your plans."

He stares at me, his piercing eyes like a blade.

"You have no choice, baby.", he responds with a threatening calm.

"And your father caused all of this."

I am left speechless, trying to process what he just said. My father?

What does he mean by that?

I shake my head, thinking that he could be just another man who hates my father and is using me to get to him.

I stand up, walking away from the table, hearing his irritated voice calling me.

"Come back to the table now!"

"No! You have no right to order me around; you kidnapped me!", I shout, seeing his anger rising.

"If you think I will follow your orders like a good dog, you are mistaken!"

In a quick and unexpected movement, Darian gets up from his chair and pushes me against the wall.

I widen my eyes, feeling his hands holding me firmly.

I try to hit him with one of my hands, but he catches it in the air, stepping closer.

I can’t stop looking into his golden eyes.

There is something in them that calls to me in a strange way.

"The less you resist, the easier it will be for you here...", he whispers.

I can smell his scent in the air.

"I am not yours to obey..."

My words seem to amuse him.

Darian smiles, touching my face with one hand.

"Sweet Elena, the world is far too cruel for someone like you..."

"Cruel like you...", I whisper, and he moves even closer to me.

Before I can say anything, something unexpected happens that completely catches me off guard.

Darian kisses me.

The kiss is fierce, full of intensity and power.

I freeze, not knowing how to react.

My lips burn, and I feel his absolute control over me—not just physically, but emotionally too.

The touch of his hands on my body makes me feel vulnerable in a way I have never experienced before.

I want to push him away; I want to scream, but something inside me keeps me trapped at this moment, in this kiss.

My heart nearly stops beating inside my chest.

He pulls away abruptly, as if trying to control himself, but his eyes still watch me with an unsettling gleam.

"You are tied to me, Elena. And there is nothing you can do to change that.", he says, his voice lower now, as if whispering a bitter truth.

I try to compose myself, my hands trembling, my body still burning from the impact of the kiss.

But before I can say anything, Darian makes an impersonal gesture with his hand, as if dismissing me.

"Go to your room.", he orders.

His cold, firm voice makes me swallow hard.

I look at him, feeling tears welling in my eyes, before running away from him.

I return to the room and collapse onto the bed, squeezing my eyes shut.

What was that?

I hug myself, still feeling my lips burning.